Breadsticks and Misconceptions
by Jojobean209
Summary: A Brittana and Klaine dinner date results in a very puzzled waitress.


Marlene loved watching the customers flow in at Breadstix. Especially the couples, which were always plentiful at Lima's only semi-nice restaurant. She enjoyed watching romances blossom (or mutate into a flaming pile of goo), and thought of her job as something of a live soap opera.

The door chimed, alerting her to the fact that four new characters were stepping onto the stage. She plastered her classic hostess smile on her face and rushed toward them, discreetly flipping open a button on her shirt when she realized how wonderfully attractive the two boys were.

"Booth for four, please?" requested the darker-skinned boy, flashing a grin that was too adorable to be legal.

"Of course. Right this way." Marlene instructed politely, never losing composure. They followed her obediently, as she made a mental note to check out the two girls as soon as she was able to do so without attracting notice. If they weren't too impossibly hot, Marlene might be able to swing herself a new boyfriend. Or at least a make-out session in the break room.

Marlene stepped back to allow the patrons into their booth, giving the two women a covert glance as they scooted side-by-side into the seat. Damn. Both were lean and beautiful, showing off tiny waists in body-hugging clothes while smooth hair draped across their shoulders. Marlene stifled a sigh and gave her mission up as so not going to happen.

She dutifully took their drink orders, wondering how the blonde had managed to pronounce 'lemonade' wrong, and swept away to tend to other customers.

She returned a few minutes later to find the blonde girl hopelessly entangled in what Marlene recognized as the paler boy's scarf. He leaned across the table to help, his slightly exasperated look telling Marlene that this was a fairly regular occurrence.

"Brit, how many times do I have to tell you, it's a scarf, not a headband." he said.

"Uh, Kurt?" the darker man said, nudging his friend's shoulder and tipping his head toward Marlene.

Kurt withdrew his hands from Brittany's head and turned his attention to the waitress.

"Are you ready to order?" she asked, forming the words on autopilot. So, if the pale boy, Kurt, was with that Brittany chick, then the two slightly Spanish-looking people must be a couple, too. They would have really pretty kids, Marlene noted. Pretty, but the eyebrows would be terrifying.

She jotted down the orders, pausing only to work out the meaning of 'puritan-esca', which Brittany had requested.

Marlene sauntered away to hand the orders to Big Larry, the cook for the night, and then settled into her post at the hostess stand. It was the perfect spot for people-watching, as it gave her an unobstructed view of the restaurant and the impression that she was actually working.

Her eye swept over the tables, looking for something interesting to latch onto. Middle-aged couple, lonely Jewish boy, giggling middle-school kids. Boring. Easily the most interesting group was the table she had just left. Even as she watched, Brittany leaned over the table to pull her fingers through the curly-haired boy's tresses. Wait a minute. Marlene had thought that she was with Kurt. Maybe she was wrong, Marlene mused, as Brittany continued to pet the boy's hair like he was a puppy. After a moment more she made to move her hand away, but her fingers remained connected.

"Blaaiiinnee." Marlene heard her whine. "They're stuck."

"I told you not to use so much gel." Kurt said, expertly fixing the situation. Brittany stuck an experimental finger in her mouth, immediately pulling it out and making a face.

"And it doesn't even taste good."

Marlene could barely make out the dark girl on Brittany's right rolling her eyes.

"Well, I had to look good for my date." the one named Blaine said, winking at Kurt, for some reason. Oh. Must be one of those weird guy things. You know, the see-who-can-get-lucky-with-their-date-first contest.

Marlene lost interest as they started talking about something to do with the band Journey and a person called Mr. Shoe. The bell dinged just then, signaling that their food was ready.

By the time she returned to the table, a food-laden tray balanced on one hand, they were all howling in laughter, the only intelligible words being 'Gap', 'fired', and something that sounded oddly like 'keep your toys in the drawer tonight'.

They quieted a little as she set the food in front of them, though Brittany had begun to hiccup lightly.

"Thank you." Kurt said, being the first one who was able to control himself enough to speak.

"If you need anything else, just let me know." Marlene told him, giving her tone a slight purr. So he had a date, whatever. She was horny, and she'd be damned if she wasn't at least going to try to get into the cute guy's pants.

"Um, right." he said, looking a bit uncomfortable at her flirtation.

"Excuse me?" Brittany interrupted, staring at her plate of noodles and sauce. "I found a chocolate chip in mine. But it tastes like an olive."

"What?" Marlene attempted to make sense of the statement.

"Then it's probably just an olive, sweetie." The brunette next to Brittany explained, with an amount of patience that was undeserved by the query. She quickly plucked a round, black shape from the plate and slid it into her mouth in such a way that even Marlene was compelled to stare. "Yup. Definitely an olive."

"Um…yeah." Marlene very unprofessionally drifted away from their table. She needed a quickie from Dennis the delivery boy to get the image of the girl's lips out of her head.

Marlene returned to the dining area a few minutes later, rather unsatisfied, but sure of which gender she liked, thank-you-very-much. She figured that she'd better see how the most interesting patrons of the evening were doing with their food.

Their table was nearly empty of meals when she arrived in the center of the room, with the exception of Kurt's half-full plate, pushed to the side. Brittany was poking a stray olive in the direction of Blaine's mouth.

"Brit, I really don't think it's going to taste like chocolate, no matter how much I imagine it…" he said, before giving up and allowing her to push it past his teeth.

Huh. Well, what the hell? Now ditzy is feeding the curly-haired one? Maybe they have some sort of partner-switching group-sex thing going on. She could be into that. Maybe. As long as the tan chick didn't get too close. There were still a couple wiggly feelings rolling around her abdomen from the olive thing that Marlene wasn't up to dealing with. Though, she couldn't help but notice that Miss Olive seemed completely bored by her date(s). Her head kept flicking in the direction of the large wish-it-was antique clock on the wall across from their seats, as though she had something better to do than sit with these two fine specimens.

Oh. Of course. She did have something better to do. Them. An image of the party's likely after-dinner activities strutted through Marlene's brain. Rowr.

She suddenly realized that she had been sagging against a tall potted plant for the last three minutes. Thankfully, she didn't think that her distraction had been noticed by them, as the plant was located behind a rectangular pillar at least ten feet from the booth. (What was the point of those pillars, anyway? Were they just to look fancy? Did they actually hold up the place? If she took a chainsaw to it, where would they send her? Jail, or just the psych ward?)

She closed her eyes for a moment. She needed a drink. Or a social life. Anything to stop her from analyzing the architecture.

But first, she really had to give her entertainment their bill. Or she could add a job to the list of things that she needed.

She pulled the notepad from her deep apron pocket (seriously, she could fit a family of chihuahuas in there) and tore off their ticket, removing herself from the plastic leaves as she did so.

"How was everything?" she asked in her excruciatingly perky waitress tone.

The usual vague nods were given by three of the group, but Blaine cheerfully piped up.

"It was all lovely, thank you."

The dark lady rolled her eyes at him, swiping the bill from Marlene's hand in the same moment. She reached toward her side, apparently for a purse, but was stopped by Brittany's hand.

"I'll get this one, San." (What the fuck is that short for?)

"You're sure?" Olive-Chick met Brittany's eyes as she nodded. "Thanks."

"It's no big deal. My mom gave me twenty dollars to stop sprinkling glitter all over the front lawn."

On the other side of the booth, a silent but clear discussion was taking place. Kurt raised one eyebrow (totally sexy), and Blaine pushed his together in response. After a few more seconds of tiny facial movements, Kurt exhaled.

"Fine. But I get to pay for the show."

"Okay." Blaine agreed. Then, barely audible, "Maybe."

"Excuse me?" Kurt challenged, mouth tilting up. The eyebrow followed.

Were they… flirting? And aren't the dudes supposed to buy their date's food, anyway?

"You're adorable when you think that you're going to pay for things." Blaine responded, lightly brushing Kurt's shoulder with his own.

Do their girlfriends not see this? Looks like someone had a little too much fun in their foursomes.

Something scratched Marlene's hand. Brittany was attempting to pass a debit card to her. Marlene believed that this may have been going on for several seconds.

"Sorry." she said, taking the thin piece of plastic. Blaine gave his, as well, absentmindedly flashing his amazingly white teeth. "Be right back."

She walked to the cash register near the door, gears turning her brain. How long has their affair been going on? The chicks didn't seem to notice anything. Maybe they're just from somewhere foreign where people are super-flirty for no reason. Poland? No. Nobody would come to Lima unless they were born there.

Or… maybe they do it because their girlfriends think it's hot. Like their own live porn. All four of them are already sleeping together anyway.

Marlene sliced the cards through the register, hoping that she had taken the right amounts off of them. Whatever. It was probably pretty close.

She slowly moved toward the booth, cards in hand. She purposely dropped one, buying a little more time. If she could just catch what they were saying, maybe she could finally figure who the bloody hell was dating who.

" 'Any Way You Want It' ?"

"Done it."

" 'Faithfully' ?"

"Done it."

" 'Don't Stop Believin'' ?"

"Twice."

" 'One' ?"

"That's not even close to being a Journey song. But yes."

"Are you sure that Mr. Shuester's radio isn't caught in the 80s?"

"Oh, I know that it is."

Marlene tapped the debit cards on their table, interrupting whatever the fuck it was they were talking about.

"Y'all have a nice night now." She occasionally liked to pretend to be Southern. It was usually her secret weapon. Guys can't resist a good Georgia drawl.

"Thank you, you do as well." Blaine answered, apparently not giving a rat's dong about her adorable fake accent. Oh well. It's probably for the best. Marlene had enough problems without having to deal with whatever kind of freakshow four-way relationship was going on at this table.

Marlene skittered away, having accepted the fact that she would get nothing more than a semi-decent tip from those two boys tonight.

The party rose from their seats, pulling on coats and other various bits of clothing (stupid Lima and its unseasonable frigidness). They paused just outside of the glass doors, waiting for Brittany to finish dressing herself.

"Saaannnn." Brittany whined, her arm caught in her sleeve at an awkward angle.

"Let me fix that, baby." San replied, mouth moving upward in a fond expression. She gently pulled Brittany's arm from its prison. Instead of releasing it, she brought Brittany's hand to her face, brushing her lips across the skin.

Marlene was so puzzled by this display of lady-on-lady affection as she watched from the hostess stand that it took her several moments to notice that Kurt and Blaine's faces had ceased being separate creatures.

Holy shit! Marlene's eyes widened, and her head tilted to the side. A few stray gears in her brain clicked into place, prompted by the fact that she was 90% sure that Kurt's tongue was now somewhere in Blaine's esophagus.

Gay couples! In Lima! Well, smack her on the ass and call her Shirley. Marlene kind of wanted to take a picture of this historic moment.

San nudged Blaine's back, distracting him from his exploration of his boyfriend's larynx. She meaningfully tapped her glowing cell phone screen, forcing his focus onto the time displayed there. Blaine curled his arm around Kurt's waist and turned away from the restaurant. Brittany and San followed, pinkies linked and bodies brushing.

Marlene smirked. Go figure, homosexuality was kind of hot. Sometimes she really loved her job.


End file.
